


Free

by obviouslyelementary



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Dragon Sickness, Gen, Implied Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslyelementary/pseuds/obviouslyelementary
Summary: Bilbo had never realized how free he really was, until he reached the end of his journey and found out the true reason why that journey happened at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based in a story by Luis Fernando Verissimo
> 
> Enjoy!

Bilbo had never realized how free he really was to make his own decisions until he joined Thorin’s company.

Obviously that he had always known he was free. He even knew he was freer than other hobbits, just for the fact that his mother was a Took, and Tooks were usually... Less careful and homey than the other hobbits.

While the other mothers usually taught their children how to plant trees or cook, his mother usually took him to the river, or the big lake, and told him stories about his ancestors, and their fascination for adventures. She also warned him that he shouldn’t talk about them with anyone but herself, because the other hobbits weren’t fans of the Tooks.

So Bilbo grew up differently than other hobbits, learning a bit more than all of them about the things beyond the Shire. He always loved the tales his mother used to tell, and he never forgot the wonders of running through the forests around the Shire and taking long to return after the sun had set.

However, he grew, and slowly he learned what a true hobbit should be. He started to get used to his house, his food, his garden, his armchair, his books, and he thought all the adventures he needed were inside his little hobbit hole, with his imagination. His parents died and he never found anyone to settle with. So he lived on his own, content, enjoying his hobbit life, until that weird day when Gandalf appeared on his door and, in the same night, several dwarfs arrived, asking if he wanted to take part on a crazy journey.

Only then, Bilbo realized how free he was.

He was a Baggins of Bag-End, but he was also a Took. And the Tooks were adventurous and excited for everything that was new and different. He let his Took side take over and left, joining that group of amazing dwarfs that he would never regret meeting and that he held dear in his heart.

Dearer than his hobbit hole, than his family, than his books and trees and armchair, and even dearer than his mother’s stories.

He left without looking back. It felt so amazing, running away from the Shire with almost nothing packed, not knowing when or if he would ever return. He left with no regrets, and even if he did feel sad sometimes, or he wished to be back at Bag-End, it was just when the journey was hard and he needed a break. In the next day, he would be excited again, and he would continue the trip as if nothing had happened.

With all that in mind, it was obvious that he did not realize how not free the dwarfs were.

In his mind, a trip like that was just another adventure, but not for them. No. For the dwarfs, that was a mission. A suicide mission, if they considered the odds. And to Bilbo, it was all right. He had agreed with everything anyway. But the dwarfs couldn’t fail, and that was what Bilbo missed when he wondered with them.

They were going to walk all the way through the world to reach the Lonely Mountain? Fair enough.

Gandalf thought it was better to stop and stay for a while in Rivendell? Nothing weird about it.

They had to reach the mountain in time of Durin’s day? Well sure, but why not stop for breakfast? 

Nothing seemed like a really big deal for him. The dwarfs had a deadline. He didn’t. And while he knew he had come with them to that quest, it didn’t stop him from complaining almost every day and night that they should stop and rest more often than they did.

It took him the whole trip to realize how free he was, and how chained they were.

They finally arrived to the mountain, watched the dragon destroy Lake Town, and built a huge barrier to stop any men from seeking aid inside the mountain. And to say the least, Bilbo was angry at Thorin’s attitude. The men had given them their hopes and assistance, and yet Thorin did not fulfill his promise. He was becoming greedy, all the dwarfs were, and it felt so wrong.

They were going mad, and Bilbo could not see why.

It was only on the day where he was given the mithril that he realized what was happening.

After hearing the same sick words coming from Thorin’s that had left the dragons a few nights prior, Bilbo had to make sure there was nothing more he could do to save him. So, at that night, he met Thorin in his chambers, quietly knocking on the door and waiting for his answer.

“Come in” the dark voice said, and with a sigh, Bilbo got inside his chambers, watching Thorin from afar. He still wore the clothes of a king, and his armor, but he was holding the crown in his hands, in front of the fireplace. He sat on the ground, while there were several chairs all around the room. His cape covered all his body, leaving Bilbo only to see his hair, and his hands, that examined the crown. He walked slowly to Thorin, letting his body fall next to the king’s, now being able to see his whole face. He looked tired, and the flames of the fire reflected in his eyes just like the gold did when they first entered the mountain. However this time, there was almost no greed in them. They were filled with pain, and guilt, and maybe disappointment. 

Then, his attention moved to the crown.

“It is a very beautiful crown, for a very beautiful king” he said, lightly, letting his thoughts fly away as he focused on what was in front of him and only that. Thorin, then, let his eyes narrow, even if he did seem pleased with the praise. When his eyes closed, however, he frowned, and his expression became dark, angry.

“What serves a crown for the king under the mountain, if there is no jewel to prove himself as?” he asked, almost in a growl, and Bilbo’s pocket grew heavier at that. He wasn’t sure if it was the ring – that tended to be heavier depending on the situation – or if it was the stone, or simply his guilt. His guilt was overcome by anger and disappointment before he could dwell on it, though. 

“Thorin. You don’t need any stone to prove yourself king. You’ve won the mountain. The Lonely Mountain, Erebor, is yours again. It belongs to your family. To your people. Our company won against all odds. Is that not enough?” he asked, once more, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible, but failing. He was just so frustrated.

Thorin’s eyes opened, and for a second Bilbo was afraid that they might show that greed for gold that they seemed to be holding during all those days. He saw in them, however, pain and amusement in them. 

“There is little you know about dwarfs, Master Baggins” he said, his voice tender, dark, deep, and for once since they arrived the mountain, Thorin seemed to be himself again. “Allow me to make a question: do you really believe that we are all here because this is our home?”

The question left Bilbo speechless. It implied so much, and so many things that he didn’t really want to believe. Was that entire trip supposed to be about gold? He didn’t like that thought a bit.

“Well... I-I thought...” he started, but stopped when Thorin raised his hand.

“Allow me to explain what really caused this trip to happen” he said, and Bilbo shut his mouth just like he used to do when his mother would start telling him a story. “Obviously that some of us, myself included, wished to return to where we were born and raised. However, we had established a home back in the Blue Mountains, and we were living in fair peace. We had homes, shops, gold, everything any dwarf could want or need. And I leaded those people, my people, to prosperity, after my grandfather died, my father vanished and my brother fell.

“I took it in my hands to make the Blue Mountains suitable for our people, and so it went. Dwalin and Balin helped me through, while a few others, the older ones from the company, did everything they could to and were loyal to the bone. Those had been the sons of my grandfather and my father’s friends. We built our way through. But not all were happy.

“I decided I would not make myself king, not from such a weak, frail people. So I lived amongst them, worked and bowed to other kings of other lands. I did not feel humiliated, because I knew I was doing right. I was helping them rebuild their lives, and they were helping me rebuild our kingdom. But one day, after my nephews were born, I realized that they did not see me with keen eyes.

“In the beginning, I imagined that they were simply being mean to those who were weaker than them. Kili suffered the most, being the youngest and having the unfortunate end of looking less like a dwarf than the rest of us. Dwalin and I believed that the children were being children and simply being rude for no reason, until it began happening to Fili as well. Fili, being the older brother, was the heir of a throne that not yet existed, but that I was slowly building. For that reason, he was told to train and learn just like any king would be trained and taught. However, Fili had always had a kind heart, and a quiet personality, another trait that was unlike dwarfs. So he began coming back angry, or upset, or even more quiet than usual. Something was clearly wrong, and I, as his uncle, had to find out what was making him so unstable.

“Only then I realized, after searching for a long time, that my sister’s sons were not being teased simply for their looks or traits, but for being a part of the royal family, the failed royal family, the weak loyal family, the powerless and poor royal family, that had been unable to kill the dragon and save their people. The unworthy royal family.

“That was when I realized, Master Baggins, that if I didn’t want to lose everything my father and grandfather had built, I could not sit still and continue living the mediocre life we were living. We had to get up, to fight back. And that was when I started planning the journey to Erebor.”

The whole story had left Bilbo even more speechless than the first question. His eyes were wide, staring at Thorin just as if he had just seen a ghost, while the dwarf continued staring at the fire, just like he had during the entire story. All pieces fit together so well that the hobbit felt the guilt go through every single bone of his body, and he couldn’t even breathe properly. His chest hurt. He couldn’t see why, or how that could be true. Thorin and his kin had been the most royal he had ever seen, with the purest propose of all: to reclaim something they had long ago lost. But now he saw the entire trip in a very different light. 

While he had seen that journey as a fun adventure, the dwarfs had seen is as the only way of reclaiming the love of their people, and their respect.

“Thorin...” he mumbled, shakily, but before he could say anything, someone knocked the door. The dwarf was quick to put his crown back on his head and stand up, rushing to the door, now fully alert. Dwalin was waiting out there when he opened it up, and bowed at the sight of his king.

“My king. The men of Lake Town are back for another agreement”

The only reason Bilbo did not return the stone to Thorin that night was how he tensed up at the news, and as he turned to tell Bilbo to come, he saw that golden spark in his eyes that told him only one thing:

‘I’m tempted to let you take it, only to watch it corrupt his heart’


End file.
